This is why the Caged Bird sang
by Estel-of-the-Eyrie
Summary: A collection of LOTR / The Hobbit one shots and drabbles, inspired by imagines from the Tumblr blog: ImagineXHobbit. Each prompt is stated at the beginning of the chapters. All Reader X Character
1. All the words left unsaid (Aragorn)

**_Prompt_**_**: **"imagine Aragorn's face when he notices that you were dragged off of the cliff with the Warg to save his life."_

* * *

The Fellowship of the Ring had long since broken, and after you and the Three hunters had run for four days and nights, following the captured Hobbits, you had found yourself in Rohan. As the only female member of the Fellowship the others thought that you would need a lot of protection. But, you were stubborn, and independent, and highly skilled a blade; the men were the ones who needed protecting half the time. But, the one time, that they decided to leave you alone, thinking that you would be perfectly fine, everything decided to go wrong.

Whilst, on the way, to refuge in Helm's Deep, the convoy from Edoras, came under attack from Warg scouts. When King Theoden requested all the riders to meet the attackers head on, you didn't hesitate in urging your horse, Jupiter, onward to meet them; drawing your sword confidently, prepared for the fight.

While the women and children took a separate route to their destination, led by your newly-made friend Eowyn, you and the rest of the Rohirrim, along with Aragorn, Legolas and the Dwarf, Gimli, charged at the enemy, to give the civilians time to reach safety.

Unknown to you, the very same Heir of Isildur, who was entirely against you joining the Fellowship in the first place, kept glancing every now and then at your turned head, watching as the sun and the winds caught your **(h/c)** hair. The way it did so, made him smile a little, and he was smiling still, as you all met the army sent from Isenguard.

Havoc, and major carnage followed. You lost track of where everyone else had gone for a while, being more focused on keeping yourself alive, and cutting down the Wargs, and the Orcs that rode them. You cut them down without regret; the Orcs from Isenguard had destroyed everything you held near, when you were just a child, and now, you were not letting any difficulties stop you from getting revenge.

You caught sight of a Warg, equipped with its armed rider, heading towards Aragorn, and without hesitation, and not thinking about your own safety, you grabbed a spear out of the hand of a nearby Orc (who was shortly after, decapitated) and threw it into the heart of the best; the Orc was launched from its back, and trampled by Hasufel. You smiled in relief, and snapped your head, towards a sound heading your way, and before you realised what had hit you, a Warg had thrown you from Jupiter's back, your sword falling from your grip onto the grass, and you fell onto the ground harshly.

A few seconds later, however, you were up on your feet, pulling the bow from your back, and going to notch an arrow, when an Orc steered his Warg directly towards you, his arm outstretched, and it pulled you onto the beast's back, behind the mutant, the bow falling from your hand. You faintly remember hearing someone shout your name, but you were too preoccupied with the immediate danger that you were in.

A quick scuffle occurred, and you were thrown from the Warg's back, but your arm had snagged its fur; your mother's bracelet, which you had managed to save from the devastation all that time ago, and was your usual good luck charm, now wasn't serving you much luck. You tried desperately to free you arm, while trying to duck and swerve as best you could, to avoid the sword blows, from the mutant's hands.

But it was no use, the Orc managed to clip you on the shoulder, and you cried out in pain. Someone seemed to notice, and shot the Orc in the back. But the pain you were in, made you sight go blurry, and all you noticed was that the Orc had fallen from the back of the Warg, and that it was still running. With a great amount of effort, that gave you a huge amount of pain, you glanced over your shoulder, and your eyes widened when you noticed that he was heading towards the edge of the cliff. You began to panic, trying to tug your arm away, and get free, to free yourself form certain death.

But, it was in vain, and as you felt the grass stop from under your shoulders, and for a brief moment, you felt weightless; the upwards air blowing against you, and your hair flew before the sensation stopped, and you plummeted to the river below; the final thing you remember, was the light blue skies above your head, being dotted with fluffy-white clouds. Staring at them, made a tiny ghost of a smile grace your chapped lips, before you were overwhelmed by the noise of the rapids, and you were swept away; unnoticed, and easily forgotten, as you constantly reminded yourself that you were nothing more than simple person on this earth, nothing important to others.

_How wrong you were..._

When the battle had finished, and all the Wargs and Orcs had been slain, he instantly noticed that something was wrong; that there was somebody missing. His eyes scanned for one face, _your face_, any sign of your (h/c) hair, you _fantastic _smile, but his heart fell, when he noticed that you were gone.

He tried calling your name, thinking, and clinging onto the hope that you were still somewhere else, where he couldn't see you, but he was met with silence. Then, he remembered the Orc from earlier in the fight; the one that was aiming to kill him, and with a heavier heart he remembered, that it was gotten to you first; gazing down, he noticed the tracks of its claws, and his jaw fell in horror, when he followed them up to, and over the edge of the cliff.

His face, showed the most sorrow, and regret that you could possibly imagine; he felt his heart rip in two, as the truth sunk in. The truth that you were gone. He was going to tell you something; something important, that he'd been working up the guts to say to you.

_To say that he loved you, and now, he would have to hold his secret for the rest of time. _


	2. Not if I have anything to say (Fili)

**Prompt:** _"__Imagine Fili calming you down after the Run-in with Azog."_

* * *

You were safe, you know you were; Azog had long since been left behind. But sitting on the back of the Eagle carrying you, you couldn't help by stay tense with adrenaline and grip the feathers below you tightly. A loud shout from Fili nearby, as he screamed Thorin's name in anguish, brought you back to the situation at hand- for the time being.

Azog had managed to corner you and the Company after you had all escaped from Goblin Town (thanks to Gandalf's timely arrival) and now were heading away from the burning hills, somewhere; you didn't know the scene where these majestic birds were taking you. They had flown through the night, but while many other slept on the backs of the birds, you kept awake out of pure fear.

Now, in the early morning sun, the Eagles landed around a rock face, and trembling slightly, you jumped to the ground. The company swarmed around the lifeless figure of Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain, but though you were concerned for his well-being, you wanted nothing more but to be somewhere inside and away from the Orcs that were now hunting you all down. You hugged your arms to your chest, and gripped your arms tightly. Kili seemed to notice as he glanced back at you, worrying.

He knew that there was something between you and his brother, and he loved to tease you both about it; laughing wildly when your cheeks burned bright red in you denials. And now, you were completely the opposite to your fun-loving nature; you felt weak and vulnerable- neither of which you were. Kili frowned, knowing something was desperately wrong- but you would only spill to one person there.

He nudged his brother in the arm, and caught the eye of the concerned Fili. He inclined his head to you quickly, and Fili turned to see you on the verge of tears. Fili looked at you, and felt his heart drop; it pained him massively to witness you like this. Nodding to Kili, he pushed back through to where you were standing, staring down at your feet. You didn't look up at him, until he whispered to you.

"**[First name]**?" He asked, concerned. "Are you alright?" You looked to him, and nodded lightly. But he could clearly see that you were not alright.

"I'm fine." You whispered back to him, but he pressed on; stubbornness was in their blood, and you knew that he would let it go until you spilled everything to him. For fifteen minutes standing there, he tried to get you to talk to him, to no avail. On the way down from the Carrock he tried- nothing there either.

Fili kept wandering about you; what would cause you to be like this? If you wouldn't ask now, he would try when the Company rested.

* * *

Later that night, long after the sun had set, you all managed to find somewhere to make shelter. Everyone was exhausted; there was no time to rest during the day, in fear that you would be caught by the Orcs. But even Gandalf could not go on now.

As everyone settled down with what they had left, you volunteered to take the first watch. Nobody argued, and as you sat with your knees curled up to your chest, you gazed into the night.

You were still petrified from earlier, and sitting here - the only one awake- make everything seem ten times worse. As you spectated the darkness that curled into the places that the fire could not reach, you tried everything to keep yourself from crying out of fear. You had managed to keep silent all day, and you thought that you had finally pushed away Fili's concerns for you.

But, as you finally gave into your fears, and silently wept into your knees, he woke up to your cries. When he saw you, sobbing silently, unable to stop, he felt the painful ways his heart twisted and mauled itself, listening. He knew that something was wrong, and quietly moved to sit beside you, under the large tree. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and quietly whispered words of comfort into your ear until your sobs died away and you gathered the urge to look up at him.

"**[First name]**" He whispered to you, frowning. "Will you tell me, what's wrong?" He asked. He wanted to help. Desperately. Finally, you gave in.

Sitting upright, and stretching your legs out in front of you, you glanced over to Fili and tried to form the words. But with each thought of what you wanted to say, you felt like crying all over again. The thoughts of what could have happened, to you, to Fili, to anyone in the Company, are the stuff of nightmares.

Tearing up again, Fili pulled you into his chest, and you mumbled out a single word. "Azog."

He understood fully. "**[First name]**" He whispered into your hair, as he comforted you in the dark; sitting here with him make every danger lurking to find you all, seem distant.

"You're perfectly fine- everyone's alright. Nobody got killed. Azog is not going to get anywhere near you, if I have anything to day about it." He said, and you pulled back to look at him.

"Do you mean it?" You ask, feeling a little like blushing at your stupidity. But Fili smiles lightly and nods, reaching out to grasp your hand. You let him take a gently hold of it. You both sat there in silence for what seemed like an Age, until you both kissed; you have no idea which one of you leaned in first, but you weren't pulling back any time soon. Fili's hand came up to rest upon your neck and you wraped your arms around his.

After a while, you both pulled away, when you heard someone clear their throat nearby. Both you and Fili looked to see Kili standing there, with a smug look upon his face. "You finally noticed?" He asked, and you threw a small acorn from the ground at his head.

"Shut up, Kili." Both you and Fili muttered, laughing lightly before pulling in for another light kiss.


	3. Not careful enough (Thorin Oakenshield)

**Prompt:** _"Imagine Thorin finding out you're pregnant with his child, after he sent you into Erebor to find the dragon"_

* * *

You were the only female Dwarf in the Company of Thorin Oakenshield; no wonder it was him that you fell for. You were as stubborn as they came, and when word reached the seven major Dwarven families (including yours) that the crownless king under the Mountain, was reclaiming your old home, you wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. Each member of the company - even Gandalf - was against you joining, but after saving everyone's butts three (or five) times, they warmed up to you exceptionally fast.

Thorin glanced over to you in the cell; stuck in Mirkwood with no way of escape, you had finally lost your spark of hope. Everyone had been given separate cells, but somehow you both had to share. Glancing up at Thorin, you caught his caring gaze. Neither of you looked away, or said a word; the silences spoke for you.

After a while, you unwrapped your arms from around your knees, and let your legs fall flat on the freezing floor; your hands were limp in your lap, and you were staring at them, unable to fathom anything else to do. Thorin watched you, curious - yet he was also deeply saddened - by how quickly you'd lost hope sitting beside the gate to the cell.

He stood from where he was leaning against an adjoining wall, and rested beside you. You looked up in surprise and he placed a tender hand under your chin; turning your head slowly in his gentle grasp, you eventually were staring him straight in the eye. The silence continues to rest between you both, and you lean into him; Thorin, who was used to this gesture when you were alone,wrapped his arms around your waist; gently kissing your hair, he tries to comfort you by whispering Khuzdul in your ear.

You relaxed a little, but not much. Thorin glances down at you; you feel his gaze and look up to meet his eyes. A gentle hand caresses your colder cheek. "What's the matter **[First name]**?" He asks, curious for your major change in mood and state of mind.

Tears brimmed in your eyes, and a lump formed in your throat. _How could you tell him?_ You decided not to, and whispered something else instead. "We're never going to get to the mountain, are we?" You spoke, defeat seeping from your words, that hurt Thorin's heart greatly. He sighed silently, before lightly pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was short but sweet.

He looked to you, and went to say more words of comfort, when the slight jingling of keys brought your attention elsewhere. Both of you glanced to the gate, to see Bilbo, pulling the gate open - _you were free!_

"Well done, master Burglar." Thorin praises, as the two of you jumped to your feet, and began to escape with the rest pf the company.

Bilbo hissed to you. "You can't go into the mountain!" You'd told him; the one you could trust not to make a big deal out of your news - is now making a big deal out of it. You and ten of the company (Fili, Kili, Bofur and Oin stayed in Laketown) were now standing on the slopes of Erebor, the door was open, and you were about to go in and find that Arkenstone.

You ignored Bilbo's attempts to get you to stay - for him to go instead; this was what you signed up to do, and you will never go back on your words.

"**[First name]**" Balin said, and you turned to look at him. "When you'e ready, Lass." He added, nodding his head to the open door. You sighed deeply, getting ready for whatever may lie in there.

You went to walk in, but quickly turned to Bilbo and whispered to him. "Please, don't tell him a word about what I told you." You pleaded, walking away. The Hobbit gulped, and whimpered a 'good luck' to you before you entered.

Thorin watched your back retreat into the mountain, into the darkness of a world that is _his,_ and he worries. He heard your words to Bilbo before you left; what could you possibly _not _want to tell _him_?

He turned his head, and stared out across the overlook, thinking deeply. The Arkenstone. You. Smaug. His thoughts were jumbled.

All nine of them jumped to their feet some time later, when the earth tumbled. "What was that?" Bilbo asked, panicked.

"Was that an Earthquake?" Dori wonders aloud. Balin turns to face him, worry and fear plastered all over his face. Thorin's face mirrors this exactly. "No Dori, that was a dragon." Thorin answers and snaps his eyes to the door, to see the light of fire. Were you still there, or had Smaug…?

Thorin worried; his heart ached for your safety. He wanted to go in, but he refused to risk the lives of everyone- even if it was you.

Bilbo had had enough. He walked over to Thorin, while everyone else was debating whether they should go inside to help you, or not. "Thorin, you can't just stay here. You must _do something!_" Bilbo hissed to him, as another roar from a dragon was heard.

Thorin's blank expression told him everything; bile of hatred rose in his throat at what the King under the Mountain said next. "I will not risk the entire quest, for the life of one… l_ow-born Dwarf._" He uttered, almost disgusted by you. YOU, the very person he'd fallen head over heels for; the one inside Erebor _at that exact moment. _You, who he would let die, to save everyone else from Smaug.

Bilbo glared at him, though he knew he shouldn't have. "But what if it wasn't one?" He blurted out, before he could stop himself. It had the desired effect; Thorin glanced at him, with his mouth agape, and eyes wide in fear.

"What are you saying, Bilbo?" He said irritably. But he guessed what was going to be mentioned next; Thorin cast his mind back to those quiet hours the two of you had, while the rest of the company had slept. _You had both been careful; how could this have happened?_

Thorin looked defeated as he slowly turned to the door, as Smaug roared again. He felt like everything had been cast aside - Erebor, his crown, the Arkenstone - all that mattered was you, and _his child._

"What have I done?" He uttered, gazing in fear at the door. You had both been so careful, but not careful enough.


	4. Fields of Gold (LOTR Character X reader)

**Prompt: **_"__Imagine humming a song you knew from your childhood, and your lover hearing you; he wraps his arms around you before finishing the line you couldn't remember"_

_Note: Lyrics are from the Sting song "Fields of Gold"_

* * *

You wandered through the empty hallways; the sun had gone down long ago, and the stars were out overhead. Nobody was awake, apart from you, of course. You pulled your cloak tighter around yourself, as you walked out into the bitter winter night air - such a contrast to the summer days - and sat down in the gardens. Observing the stars overhead, you thought about a song your parents used to sing to you, when you were just a child.

You smiled happily at the memory, and as you lent back onto the grass, you began to gently tap the rhythm out onto the ground. Before long you were mouthing the words, feeling your hair being gently brushed around by the light winds. You continued to stare upwards to the heavens in awe; the stars had always fascinated you.

As the stars were hidden behind the oncoming clouds, you began to hum the tune; sitting upright to lean against a tree, you began to sing quietly as you messed with the fabric of your dress.

**[Character****]** turned over his sleep, reaching out to wrap their arms around your frame. When he noticed that the bed beside him was empty, he began to panic slightly, but calmed down when he realised that you couldn't have gotten far. Sitting upright, he quickly thinks where you might have headed, before -

_You'll remember me when the west wind moves,_  
_Upon the fields of barley._  
_You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky,_  
_As we walk in fields of gold._

It was your voice, singing. He stood up, smiling to himself as he made his way to the small window; he pushed it open, shivering in the cold, and glanced down. Sure enough, there you were, sitting in the gardens like you always were.

_So she took her love  
For to gaze awhile  
Upon the fields of barley  
In his arms she fell as her hair came down  
Among the fields of gold_

He smiled brighter, he knew this song; he'd thought for so long that people had forgotten about it. Pulling the window closed, he quickly pulled his boots on, grabbing his cloak and made his way into the gardens.

The War of The Ring had been over for almost five years now, and you'd been married for two; you were perfectly safe, and you were perfectly carefree. It was one of the things he loved most about you.

As he made his way closer, you voice seemed to grow stronger, but the song seemed to be more rigid; you'd begun to forget the words.

_Will you stay with me, will you be my love  
Among the fields of barley  
We'll forget the sun in his jealous sky  
As we lie in fields of gold_

_See the west wind move like a lover so_  
_Upon the fields of barley_  
_Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth_  
_Among the fields of gold_  
_I never made promises lightly_  
_And there have been some that I've broken_  
_But I swear in the days still left_  
_We'll walk in fields of gold_  
_We'll walk in fields of gold_

He'd finally reached the garden, you still hadn't noticed him coming closer to you, until he'd sat right beside you, and wrapped his arms around you. Startled slightly, at his sudden appearance, you stopped singing, and gently moved closer to him, so that you were now resting your head against his chest.

You both sat in silence for a moment, before he spoke gently. "Keep going; you sing so well."

Blushing for a moment, you glanced up at him, before shaking your head slightly, "I don't remember the rest." You admit; you were glad that the dark night was able to hide your burning cheeks. He lent down to kiss you; the warmth his lips left on yours, kept you begging for more. Your hand moved to his neck, as his arms wrapped around your waist.

When something light, fluffy and cold landed onto your face, the two of you pulled away and glanced up; the dark clouds were pouring snow down upon you. Many flakes had already landed in your [**hair colour]** hair and down your back.

"Don't worry." He said to you, brushing the flakes from your shoulder. "I know the rest."

_Many years have passed since those summer days  
Among the fields of barley  
See the children run as the sun goes down  
Among the fields of gold  
You'll remember me when the west wind moves  
Upon the fields of barley  
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky  
When we walked in fields of gold  
When we walked in fields of gold  
When we walked in fields of gold._


	5. You don't need to say a word (Aragorn)

_**Prompt:** __"__Imagine, that after believing that you died to save him, Aragorn's face light up when he discovers you turning up to Helm's Deep looking half-dead, beaten up, bruised and scarred, looking for him"_

_Author's note: This one shot is the second part to "All the words left unsaid."_

* * *

You were dead; no other explanation could be made. Falling off a cliff into the rocky rapids below, was a feat nobody was able to survive. Not even you.

Yet 24 hours on, from your watery demise, almost everyone had come to terms with your absence. Almost everyone. One man, the man who'd always harbored affections for you, was taking the revelation harder than most. Aragorn tried so hard to delve himself into his work - to keep his mind distracted. But nothing worked; with each free moment he had, he glanced towards the old, weathered bracelet that he had thrust into his possession - it was your mothers, then it became yours. You seldom parted from it, and now it was his final piece of you.

The sun fell, then rose, and his attitude hadn't changed. Legolas began to grow concerned for his friend's well-being, but the Elf knew that he wouldn't be able to understand the pain and loss the Ranger was going through.

More work. Planning the defensive maneuvers. Debating with hope, as to whether Saruman had fallen for their sudden evacuation; with Grima on his side, there was little reason to believe in success. More work; even more planning. The monotonous nature of the work that he threw himself into was never ending. The majority of those he came across either knew nothing about your fate, or they'd had their lives changed dramatically by you.

You were a shining star to him, that had been snuffed out like a wax candle.

The time was now long midday - _two days_. Two days without you in the world. So much work had been accomplished, but he needed something. He wanted to say those words to you; the words that continue to burn in his mind, his heart - within his very soul.

War planning with Theoden seemed to put his broken mind to rest for a while, but when he left to catch up on some rest , he could only think about one person - you.

* * *

Unknown to everyone else, you had managed to survive the plunge into the rapids; you were still unsure how. But riding towards Helm's Deep upon Brego's back, you were highly thankful for you ability to cheat death.

The sight of the monstrous army that was heading directly for your destination was one of the reasons that you urged the horse faster. The other reason that drove you forwards... What was it? You weren't sure entirely, but your heart pulled, twisted and ached terribly every time your mind dared to think and consider it.

The wind blew through your dirty hair. The sense of freedom overwhelmed you for a brief moment, but it was short lived, as you noticed it was the heaving breaths before the determined slaughter. Nobody at Helm's Deep realised just how wrong they were, but as you glanced upwards to the horizon, you saw Helm Hammerhand's Rohan stronghold. Sighing deeply, you mentally prepared yourself for what you needed to do; nobody likes being the bearer of bad news, and were basically delivering a death warrant.

* * *

They say that the hands of a king are the hands of a healer,but right now no amount of healing would be able to make this king-in-exile feel better.

He'd helped out as much as they would all let him; with nothing to do, he headed to his temporary living space and sharpened his sword. Nobody bothered him, which meant he was being bombarded with guilt-ridden thoughts. How could he not save you? Why did Eru have to claim you now, while you had all that time left?

The feelings kept coming, until he was disrupted by a commotion outside. He'd expected the refugees to be angry, frustrated and desperate to return to their homes, but nothing that he could hear sounded anything like what he expected.

_They sounded happy_.

Confused, as to what could be happening outside, he placed his sword and whetstone down on the bed sheets, before heading out to see what the commotion was about. As he walked through the halls, he listened to what was being cried out in joy; many different voices overlapped one another, but out of everything audible, he was able to make out one word:

**_[your name]_**

He passed Legolas, who pushed his friend forwards with a knowing smile. And, when he managed to get outside into the open, he heard it, as clear as day. You, asking Gimli where he was. He felt his heart leap and ache, but a smile transformed the gloomy atmosphere. Aragorn waited where he was, leaning against the support beam with your most prized possession in his hands. He couldn't stop smiling; you'd returned.

Moments passed, but they didn't feel as agonising as the eternity that passed, while he waited for you. Like he always promised himself that he would. He heard somebody begin to walk up the front steps, the stairs he was waiting beyond, and within moments he saw you.

You had cuts, bruises and looked completely beaten up, but you were alive - you had come back. He noticed that you glanced around the place as you walked past every opening; your weary eyes surveyed the entire area, taking everything in. Then, they landed on him, and a wide smile erupted on your face; Aragorn felt his smile grow wider.

You walked - or rather, limped - towards him, and stopped when you were close.

"You're late." He mentions and you roll your eyes.

"I'm always late." You reply, scoffing. It was true; no matter how well you fought - words or sword - you were almost _always _late for anything important. The council of Elrond was a good example.

He smiles wider at you, glancing down with such admiration in his eyes. Aragorn's heart tugged when you laughed lightly at him. Then, while taken of guard, you moved forward and hugged him. When he came out of his shock, he hugged you back. Several moments were spent in this embrace, with you trying to avoid wincing from the pain you were experiencing, and with him trying to hug as you as hard as he dared. You both let go of one another eventually, and your hand subconsciously went to your wrist; to grasp the bracelet that no longer resided there.

Aragorn watched as you frowned at this realisation, and after being confused for a moment, he gingerly placed the bracelet against your palm and you encased your fingers around the cool, calming and carefully shaped steel.

A smile blossomed over your features when you spied the bracelet that had now returned rightfully to be within your grasp once again.

"How did you find this?" You query, desperate to know how he had retrieved it from the masses of grass and destruction.

"Does it really matter?" He asks back.

"No, I suppose not." you reply, smiling. Aragorn felt his heart flutter when he once again spied on the smile that you gave him the hope he sometimes lacked. He sighed lightly, preparing himself; he's going to tell you something he should have mentioned a long time ago.

"_**[your** **name]**_" he says before lightly sighing once more. "I need to tell you something." You gazed at him in wonder, before you realised what he was going to say - what he was finally going to reveal to you.

And you were glad that he felt the same way.

Working with your instincts, you lean forward before he has time to open his mouth. Moving your arm, so that your hand rested against his neck, you close the agonising gap that had been left for far too long.

Aragorn hesitated for a split second, before he gently kiss you back. His arms snaked once more around your waist, and your slung themselves around his neck. Pulling one another closer, neither of you seemed to desire breaking apart. But after what seemed like an entire age, you removed the connection between you both.

You placed your forehead against his, before whispering something for his ears only.

"You don't need to say a word _mellon-nin._" you hummed to him; both of you couldn't help but smile.


	6. A journey of improbable dreams (Tolkien)

_**Prompt: **"Imagine how Professor Tolkien would light up as he stepped into Middle-Earth for the first time and the wonder on his face as he sees his creations"_

_Author's note: I've written this one like a diary entry. Something new to me, so I'd like some feedback on how well this worked - or not. :) Also, Clive is the first name of Tolkien's friend and fellow author C.S Lewis. Just to let you know for later on._

* * *

_June 22nd 1956_

_The Lord of the Rings _and _The Hobbit_ have been a huge success! Everywhere I turn, I can see the younger generations learning about my outstanding creations; just this morning I overheard two of the younger, more troubled students in my class, trying to hold a conversation in Sindarin. They looked astonished when I began to join in, and correct their pronunciation, and I even taught them some new words in the language. I've never felt so proud to have become a teacher.

But all teachers are a slave to the dreaded Morgoth of education; marking papers. Though my students are highly intelligent and open-minded, this will always feel like a chore for me. Oh, how I wish that I back in the fields surrounding the quaint and peaceful Sarehole Mill - my inspiration for the Shire. The way that young boys like myself could spend days chasing the daring pond skippers, searing the pushes for a rare wildflower, and maybe even wish to spy an Elven maid.

Life was so simple back then; I miss the quiet days. Maybe soon I'll go back there and Christopher's children the wonders of the simple lifestyle. The Hobbit way of life.

How I'd like to one day, visit the Woodland Realm of mighty, courageous King Thranduil, or the reformed kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor under King Elessar Telcontar's rule. To just waste away the days, pouring through the scripts and old stories in the Imladris library, while having polite discussions with Lord Elrond.

To visit the world of my imagination would make such an awfully big adventure. It would make for a journey of improbable dreams.

And I doubt that I've got many opportunities left to have another.

* * *

There's been an outstanding turn of events. I must have picked a highly peculiar door when leaving the classroom at the University to return home to Edith because my wishes had been answered.

After finishing marking the final paper from the pile, I packed away everything and pulled on my coat, before heading through the door. I had only planned on saying 'farewell' to Clive before getting into the car, when I'd discovered that I was no longer standing within the dreary school halls.

I was now standing within a field; the grasses were lush and flowers had bloomed in every possible space of land, that growing some kind of food. The warm, welcoming air of the Shire swept over my weary shoulders, and I felt like I'd always be welcomed wherever 'there' was. It couldn't be the Shire; it was almost impossible.

The rowdy laughter of a nearby pair of people reached my ears, and before I could even consider reacting to this revelation, I heard several words that I believed that I'd never hear.

_"Hurry up Pippin! He's catching up!" _

It was Meriadoc Brandybuck; he even sounded like I'd imagined. There was only one explanation. And like Conan-Doyle said through the voice of Sherlock Holmes: _"Once you've eliminated the impossible, however improbable must be the truth."_ The only logical thing that I can comprehend is that I am actually within the boundaries of the Shire. Middle-Earth.

I have reached the realm of my creation. And it is more wonderful that I have ever imagined.

I couldn't control myself. Before I even considered what I was doing, I have begun to smile broadly and tears had sprung in my eyes. My heart yearned to explore the very world I ahd begun to plan all those years ago, with such a simple sentence.

It already felt like home to me, and I'm ready to enter and explore its mysteries.

But alas; it was yet to be. As the next thing I remember, is Clive gently rocking my shoulder, in an attempt to wake me up.

It was all a dream.

The warm, homely feeling left me as it began to dawn on my, but I will continue to be optimistic.

One day, I will return to Arda, to see the Kingdoms of Middle-Earth with my own eyes.

I will return to explore my creations, as so many have done before me, even if it was just simply picking up one of my novels.


	7. unexpected surprises (Aragorn)

_**Prompt: Imagine Aragorn teaching his eldest daughter to shoot.**_

_**A/N: I'm so sorry that it's been such a long time, since I published something, but here's a new fic. It's Aragorn/Daughter!Reader, and I'm considering making it into 2 parts. **_

* * *

You sat down on the balcony in your room and sighed, your eyes threatening to reveal everything that you've tried to hide from your parents. You were their first child, their oldest, but your parents - the King Elessar, and his wife Arwen - were always busy with your brother Eldarion, or with your other 4 siblings. It was expected, with a family this size, that some of you were going to feel a little left out.

But it always seemed to be you. Every time you ventured into the main citadel or somewhere else in the castle, you constantly saw your parents spending time with your siblings; when you went to ask them something, or to actually spend some time with them, they were too busy. When you were 11, you stopped asking.

* * *

From a young age you were told that you always had to smile regardless of the situation, and to leave the warmongering and civil duties to the men. As a princess of the Reunited Kingdom, you were also expected to become a calm, sophisticated and talented woman. To not question the world. It was easier for your sisters; they took after your mother both in looks and personality. Yet there was you- curious, strong-willed and the complete opposite of them all.

As for your supposed talents… to be honest, you still hadn't found it yet. You couldn't play an instrument; your singing voice was non-existent. You couldn't draw, or do anything that your mother or sisters could. However, you could write about mythical futures, where people were able to fly within weird metallic contraptions - heading across the world in hours.

You were nine years old at this revelation, yet when Arwen heard about this, she forbid you from writing any more about them; the contraptions, she said, were too similar to those used by Mordor and Isengard during the Second War of the Ring.

Going into Gondor was out of the question. Any attempt in socialising with others the same age ended in vain or embarrassment - each time somebody realising exactly who you were, the formalities began. Your birthright had made it seemingly impossible for you to make informal acquaintances. You just stayed within the citadel a lot, mainly in your room, reading history books from the archives.

There were occasions where you'd have to attend feasts, celebrations or similar things; no matter how much you didn't want to attend, you had to. You complied reluctantly, mainly just to please everyone else. Normally you sat away from the majority of where the attention was directed, hoping that you wouldn't get noticed much. Then the Lady Eowyn began to sit with you during these events - Lord Faramir was usually deep in conversation with some officials - and she told you some of the many tales of valour that she knew. Some were hers. Some were your parents; all were enticing.

You wanted to be like some of those mentioned in the stories. You wanted to show everyone that you were capable of something like they were. But you were never going to get that chance, unless - Eru forbid - the world heads back to war, or something drastic befalls your brother. As much as you wanted to prove yourself, you didn't feel that the two options were worth it.

You heard Eldarion begin talking to someone on the floor below, and glanced over the side to see who it was. Eyes wide, you noticed that it was your father; it was the beginning of his weekend off - how on Arda could you forget?!

There was a brief moment when you considered calling down to them, or to head down there; thinking about how much trouble you that could get you into, you left them alone, instead choosing to head inside and read some more stories.

* * *

Later that night, after supper, and a few long hours since you and the rest of the citadel had gone to rest for the night, you came up with an idea. An idea that would let you get to prove something, while not getting in trouble with anyone. Hopefully.

* * *

Aragorn was growing concerned; you hadn't turned up for breakfast the next morning. Thinking that you'd simply overslept, he made his way upstairs to make sure. When he opened your bedroom door, finding your room empty, he felt his heart skip momentarily.

He stepped in further, and still hadn't found you. He walked around the entire room - nothing. He stepped out onto the balcony, the only place he had yet to check. When he discovered that it was also empty and devoid of life, he stood there for a few moments, thinking deeply - and hastily. Where else could you be at this time? When he heard the sound of an arrow being fired, he snapped out of his thoughts before glancing downwards, over the side towards the private archery range. A small glance down told him most of the story, and he headed down there so you could tell him the rest of it.

* * *

You'd managed to find Eldarion's archery equipment while he was at breakfast, and you headed down to the archery range, so you could get a few hours practising before you believed that you would be discovered.

Letting the next arrow fly, you huffed in annoyance, as you spectated it soar straight past the line of targets. Reaching down to grab another arrow from the quiver standing up on the ground, you stopped and spun around to see your father when your heard him. As you spun around, you hid the bow behind your back, hoping that he hadn't seen it.

"Father!" You gasped in surprise as Aragorn walked towards you. "W-w-what are you doing here?" you asked, hoping to postpone the certain telling off you were going to get.

"Looking for you; you've missed breakfast." He replied, now standing close to you. Averting your gaze with a small "Oh…", you look down at the ground. Aragorn notices the bow in your hands and gently takes it from you; you simply let go. He glances curiously for a moment, before staring at the bow. He understood - sort of.

"You stole Eldarion's bow?" He asked, amused. But you were scared that he was about to tell you off, so you missed the humour.

"I believe that I borrowed it without asking." You reply, muttering your response. "It's completely different." Aragorn laughs and you look up at him, startled - although you don't let it show.

Then unexpectedly, Aragorn talks to you, calmer than you were expecting him to. He steps back slightly. "Point at me." He says, and you glance at him confused.

"I'm sorry, what?" you comment, slowly. "You want me to point at you?" He nods, smiling kindly.

"Yes, with just one hand." He responds and you do just that. You raise your arm for a few seconds before lowering it.

"Why did I have to do that?" you ask, hoping he hadn't tricked you or anything.

"Because you need to know which hand to hold the bow in." Aragorn replies, laughing as your face breaks out into a smile and you hug him tightly. This was an unexpected surprise indeed.


End file.
